Jordan planted his feet and his resolve. “Like any of you would handle the situation differently if you were in my shoes.”
He watched her three brothers wince with chagrin, then resolution as they glanced at the women beside them. Her brothers might be his adversaries in the Jefferies-Garrison war for power, but they certainly shared the same drive.
Emilio grinned. “Good luck convincing her without upsetting her, bro.”
And thank God for brothers who could wrench a much-needed laugh out at just the right time. Emilio gave him a quick, hard hug and stepped away to comfort his fiancée, leaving Parker still standing beside him.
“You care about my sister,” Parker said, the words sounding more like a statement than a question.
Jordan gave a simple nod. More and more every day. More than he’d expected or knew how to take in.
Parker sighed long, hard. “Okay, then. We’ll gather up Mother and head out. Let Brooke know how worried we are for her and the baby.”
Jordan glanced toward the ladies’ restroom with no sign of Bonita yet. Still he kept his voice low, but level. “About Bonita. Normally I make it a point to stay out of other people’s family affairs, but Brooke and our child are my family now.”
Parker frowned. “Your point?”
This wouldn’t be easy to say or hear, but after a night like this, he couldn’t keep quiet. Especially when Brooke needed his help. “It seems to me that hiding the liquor bottles isn’t working anymore.”
Jordan waited for the explosion, a fist or at the very least a bark to mind his own business. Yet none came.
Only a heavy resolution in the air as the eldest Garrison nodded. “I’ll look into inpatient rehab clinics first thing in the morning.”
No victory here. Just a hard truth. Jordan kept his silence.
Parker sagged back against the wall. “I’m certain the brothers will be on board to join me in an intervention for Mother. Brittany’s probably going to want to stay with Brooke.” He looked back at his siblings and all nodded in agreement, Brittany swiping at a tear streaking down her face. Parker turned back to Jordan. “We’ll let you know how it goes.”
A few short words exchanged, but enough. They’d been adversaries for a long time. Working together didn’t—and wouldn’t—come easy. But given Emilio’s marriage and this baby, their families would have to get along.
Bonita was a destructive force to those around her, and he wanted better for Brooke and their child.
Speaking of which, now he just had to figure out a diplomatic way to persuade her to move in with him, without raising anyone’s blood pressure. That would most definitely take a Christmas miracle.
Eight
B rooke let the soft leather of the limo seat envelop her, her feet propped up and a water bottle clasped in her hand. Jordan sprawled beside her, working away on his BlackBerry.
Hot.
Silent.
And always present during her every waking moment in the hospital.
She kept her other hand pressed to her stomach to reassure herself the baby still rested safely inside her. The smell of the hospital and fear clung to her senses even miles away. Everything had happened so quickly, from passing out to waking in Jordan’s car as they raced to the E.R.
Now the world had slowed, in every sense. She couldn’t work. Couldn’t go anywhere. The helplessness pinched, but she didn’t have a choice. Already maternal instincts to protect this precious life burned so strongly. She would do whatever it took to keep her child safe.
Although so far, she hadn’t needed to do much beyond dress herself. Jordan had taken care of everything, checking her out of the hospital and whisking her away in the limo. However, when she got to her place, she would regain some control. Her assistant could bring any pressing work over, and Lissette’s niece had been looking for part-time employment. With someone who could help during the day, she should be fine.
She could do some paperwork at home to keep from going stir-crazy. Parker had even offered to send over his receptionist, Sheila, to take care of business errands, but Brooke reassured him her staff at the Sands could handle things.
One morning off work, and already she was going stir-crazy. She needed to calm herself, for the baby’s sake.
Brooke stared out the limo window, counting palm trees whipping by to steady her thoughts…as they passed the exit to her condo. “Hey, we missed the turnoff to my place.”
Jordan glanced up, tucked his BlackBerry in his briefcase on the seat beside him and focused the full attention of those yummy blue eyes on her. “I know. I didn’t want to give you time to stress about this. Stressing isn’t good for you or the baby.”
“Stress about what?” Was the doctor keeping something from her? Her fingers curved around her stomach.
Jordan stretched his arm along the back of her seat. “I’m going to take care of you.”
Ah, now she saw the way this was going. “You’re using this as an excuse for us to move in together. I don’t want to stay in a hotel room for weeks on end.”
“Not at the Victoria.” He toyed with her hair, loose around her shoulders. “At my house, with a full staff to wait on you while you stay on bed rest.”
“Your house?”
“Yes, or actually my parents’ old home, but mine now. I bought out Emilio’s half a long while back.”
He lived in his parents’ old house? The notion teased at her heart, thinking of him wanting to stay close to memories of his mother and father. If only he would show this softer side of himself to her more often.
It was his charge-ahead side she had to worry about. She forced her attention back to what he was saying.
“You can’t take care of yourself alone at your place, Brooke, you have to know that. Do you want me to move into your pink palace? Or would you rather go home with someone in your family taking care of you?”
The thought of staying at the Garrison estate with her mother…“That’s dirty pool for a guy who swears he doesn’t want to piss me off.”
“I’m simply showing you the options.” His fingers tunneled through her hair to massage her neck, tease her senses. “Do you have a better idea?”
Brittany was getting ready for her wedding, even more so now that she wouldn’t have Brooke’s help. And she didn’t really know her sisters-in-law well enough to be comfortable living with them, even as nice as they were. All of her female friends worked full-time, living alone in a condo like she did. “I thought I could hire someone.”
“I’ve already got a full staff taking care of the house.” His thumb worked along her spine in muscle-melting strokes. “Think of it this way. Since our dates out on the town have been curbed for now, we can have the same sort of getting-to-know-each-other time at my home. More efficiently.”
She stared out the limo window as they drove deeper into South Beach with each palm tree that whipped past. Rollerbladers zipped along the sidewalks despite the cooler temperatures. Tourists filled crosswalks, the older contingent moving in for the winter months.
His argument had merit. Still, she wondered if he harbored further ulterior motives. “I can’t have sex until the doctor clears me.”
“She warned me again in the hall.” He winced. “Stringently.”
She grinned at just the thought of that conversation. “Not much privacy in this baby-birthing process, is there?”
“Apparently not.” He rested his head against the side of her forehead, nuzzling her hair. “I’ll miss being with you more than I can say. But if you can go without sex, so can I.”
No sex. Already she mourned the loss. With Jordan touching her, she couldn’t deny how uncomfortable holding back might get. “You’re really serious about us moving in together, temporarily anyway.”
She let the implications rain down around her, this new facet of Jordan’s commitment to her. She had been watching him for any false moves, any sign that he was in this relationship with ulterior motives or to somehow bring down the Garri
son empire. But his tenderness and thoughtful generosity now…She couldn’t deny that she was moved.
“Totally. And if you can’t consider your own health, think about the baby.”
Of course, Jordan being Jordan, now he was really playing dirty pool. Except he’d hit on the one argument guaranteed to sway her. “For the baby, but I need to set some ground rules.”
“Fair enough.” He stared at her with those boardroom blue eyes, his make-the-best-deal-possible eyes.
“And you have to promise to follow them.”
“You’re good at catching nuances.” He winked, humor easing his intensity. “I’ve heard you’re as tough as the rest of your family across the bargaining table.”
“Another dubious compliment.” Although she had to admit, while a peacemaker in personal relationships, she enjoyed releasing her suppressed aggressions in the workplace. “But on to those rules. Just because I gave in on this doesn’t mean I’m relenting on my reservations about marriage.”
The notion still scared her to pieces, and she didn’t plan on thinking about anything that would stress her out.
“Understood.”
“And I think it’s best if we don’t share a bed.” She figured she should cover all the nuances he may have tried to sneak past her.
His eyes crinkled at the corners as his smile increased. “Because you’re afraid you can’t resist me?”
“That’s quite an ego you’re sporting.”
“Or sense of humor.” He grazed her lips with his thumb. “I’m trying to make you smile back.”
His gentle touch stroked her scattered emotions.
“Sorry. I’m just…scared.”
All levity faded from his gaze, and he slid his hand to cup her face. “Ah, damn, of course you are.”
“I could handle it if this was just about my health, but worrying about the baby, that’s too much.” The concerns bubbling inside her were so much bigger than anything she’d ever faced.
“Worry is against doctor’s orders.” He smoothed his other hand over her stomach in a gesture of intimacy she couldn’t bring herself to stop. “Set your mind on something else.”
She blinked through the fears, accepting he was right, knowing she needed to try harder for their baby’s sake. “Such as?”
“Have you thought about names?”
The limo stopped at a light while hordes of pedestrian traffic crossed the street. She let herself settle into the warmth of his touch and the butter-soft leather seats as they shared the moment, planning together for their child. “It would have helped if the little one had been more cooperative during all those ultrasounds. Then we could have known whether to choose girl or boy names.”
“We?”
He’d doubted she would include him? Further proof he didn’t know her well if he thought she could be so small-minded as to cut him out of such a huge decision about their baby. “Of course, you should get a say in this, unless you come up with something horrid. What’s your mother’s name?”
“Victoria.”
“Your hotel’s name,” she murmured in surprise. How could she not have known that? Yet another reminder of how far they needed to come before she could even consider tying her life—and the knot—with this man.
He shrugged.
“That’s really touching.” She wanted the same sort of closeness with her own child, something better than her relationship with Bonita. “I’m sorry about how my mother behaved earlier.”
His eyes took on that sharp look again. Predatory, unrelenting. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
She still felt guilty for not thinking through her actions more that night five months ago. “The first time I took you to dinner, my brother beat you up—”
“Uh, you mean tried to beat me up.”
Male egos. She stifled a laugh. “Right,” she said, then sobered. “Anyway, and the next time we showed up at my house, my mother goes on the attack, verbally rather than physically.”
“You were the one who was hurt. I should have stepped in sooner.”
As if that would have made a difference. Her hands shaking, she set aside her water bottle. “No one can stop her when she’s on a roll like that.”
However, she needed to stop her mother in the future since there was no way she could allow Bonita to jeopardize this baby’s health. Anger stirred at what her mother’s tirade had nearly cost them.
He rested a hand on top of her clenched fist. “I don’t think this is a wise discussion for you to be having.”
“Think happy thoughts and all.” She forced even breaths in, out, in again.
“Exactly.” He raised her hand to his mouth and grazed a kiss across her knuckles, once, twice and again until her fist unfurled and the gold band on her thumb appeared again. “Tell me a happy childhood memory.”
She offered up the first thing that popped to mind. “My mother used to paint. She would take her art supplies to the beach. Brittany and I could build sand castles and splash in the waves.”
“That’s a great memory.” He thumbed along the inside of her wrist as the limo pulled up to the iron gates outside his family home on the north end of the strip.
“I hadn’t thought about it in such a long time. The bad memories tend to overtake the good ones.” She eyed the opening gates, envisioning them closing behind her. Closing her in with the manicured bushes and trees. “I guess you and I need to make sure those bad feelings between our families don’t overcome the good stuff we’re working on.”
He studied her as the limo rolled along the brick paved driveway, past a fountain with an angel in the center. “I agree, as long as thinking about that doesn’t stress you.”
“Hmm…If I was a Machiavellian type of person, I could really milk this to my advantage and pick the name I want.”
“As long as we don’t have to name the kid Parker, I think I can handle just about anything.”
Much-needed laughter rolled up and past her lips. She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’ll think about names and get back to you.”
“Fair enough.” He winked on his way out of the limo.
Before she even reached the walkway, he swept her into his arms. She started to argue, but they’d already been down this route and he seemed insistent on carrying her. Today, at least, she had a valid reason to accept the ride without worry of losing control of the situation.
She looped her arms around his neck as he took the stone steps and wound his way through a columned courtyard to the front door. She barely had time to take in the warm honey-and-blue hues of his home since he introduced her to the staff in a quick flurry before heading toward the lengthy staircase with a deep mahogany railing curling around the foyer.
The long hall seemed narrower because of the framed artwork. Landscapes mingled with portraits of a heart-tuggingly young Jordan, as well as Emilio. Already, she could feel her eyes drifting closed as much as she wanted to stay awake and look around at this slice of family-centered heaven that was his home. Doggone it, these pregnancy near-narcoleptic moments seemed to hit her harder every day.
The world shifted, and she blinked awake again as he settled her in the middle of a towering four-poster bed. Jordan wafted the fluffy duvet over her with cocooning comfort—and then the first hints of claustrophobia. It only took her one sweep of the room to realize…
She wasn’t in his bed, but she was most definitely in his suite.
A week later, Jordan took the stairs in his house up to the second floor with anticipation. He had food and a present for Brooke, both of which he thought would lift her spirits.
No question, he enjoyed having her under his roof more than even he’d anticipated. He’d brought her here because it was the right thing to do for her and the child.
He hadn’t expected it to be so right for him, too.
Especially after living alone for such a long time, sometimes at the hotel, sometimes here. The bachelor life had suited his career aspirations well. He’d envisioned
there being more of a pinch in adding her to his routine. Instead, the past days had been entertaining, spent sharing meals, talking, learning the fundamentals about each other. Her favorite color, food, music.
Pink—no surprise.
Chili—for now. Subject to hormonal change.
Oldies and soft rock—he had a concert in mind for when she was on her feet again.
He hoped that would be soon, for the baby’s safety as well as her sanity. He couldn’t miss the restlessness growing in Brooke with each passing day. He’d done his best to keep her occupied, sending in contractors to renovate a bedroom into a nursery when she wasn’t tackling some work from her office. He hadn’t met a woman yet who wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of a bottomless budget for decorating.
Except Brooke didn’t seem the least bit thrilled tonight, lying on the sofa in the sitting area between their rooms. She appeared downright irritable staring at her feet propped on a pillow at the other end of the sofa. Her fax machine hummed quietly on the far side of the room even though she didn’t so much as glance at the papers spewing out in her work area.
He stepped into the room, rested the wrapped package against the couch and placed the carryout container on the coffee table—none of which elicited any reaction from her. “Brooke? Don’t you want supper from Emilio’s? There’s a container of chili in here with your name on it.” Even the mention of one of her favorite foods didn’t change the weariness on her face. “We can order something else, if you’re having a different craving.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s fine. Thanks.”
He swept aside the pillow and rested her feet in his lap. He savored the chance to touch her, look at her. Her simple red cotton dress clung to the luscious curves of her breasts and to her stomach, the increasing swell a reminder of how little time he had left to cement things between them. He’d always hoped for a marriage like his parents’, and this pregnancy had prevented him from finding that with Brooke. Yet. He could still hope they would find that magic, but only if they both tried.
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